Jonah and the Ghost
by shadisparrow
Summary: A story about the poor boy who fell in love with Moaning Myrtle... because you knew it had to happen sometime.


Hello. This is my one and only Harry Potter fanfic... because I find that my mind cannot hold all of the canon facts for this series since it is generally too small. Therefore, if you spot something that is not accepted canon, or you find that there is something I should add for effect, please do tell me. And I'm sorry to anyone who is offended that I am using the next generation characters. I was as pissed off by the epilogue as most people were, but in this case I think it's necessary for placing my OC in a suitable time period.

Disclaimer: Obviously, since I am using _this_ website to post my _fanfiction_ story, I do not own Harry Potter. However, I do very much own my main character, and any other characters whom you do not recognize from the books.

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**Jonah and the Ghost: Chapter 1**

The first time he saw her was the first day of his new life. Not because of her, perhaps, but because of where he was going, and what he was going to become. For him, it was the day that everything changed.

Jonah Perry was a thoroughly normal boy. He had lived all his life in the suburbs of London, vacationing occasionally in neighboring countries (his favorite was Italy). He had a loving mother and father, a black lab called Soot, and a passion for cricket. He collected unusual socks as a hobby and kept a family of goldfish named after late philosophers in his room (his favorite here being Plato). Jonah had average marks at school, average physical abilities, and utterly average looks. You couldn't get more normal, or so he thought.

It was this lack of extraordinary-ness that made the shock even more brutal to the boy when, on the 1st of July at age eleven, he received his letter of acceptance from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But Jonah and his parents were, for the most part, shocked because they had no notion of the existence of magic or wizards, and certainly not of schools that teach the former to the latter. Of course, no one had ever suspected the boy of harboring hidden magical talent. In fact, it seemed so far-fetched to begin with that Jonah's parents simply wrote the letter off as a practical joke and attempted to ignore it.

Jonah, however, knew better. This was, after all, a very authentic-looking letter from the famous Hogwarts (supposedly invented by the author J. K. Rowling) and it had been signed by none other than Professor Minerva McGonagall, the current Headmistress. Unbelievable as it was, every time Jonah touched the letter he felt a surge of excitement and anxiety.

It was this sensation that led the young boy to do something very daring, and in some ways very stupid. Jonah decided to test his magical abilities. The best way of doing this, he figured, was by putting himself in mortal danger in order to see if his magical instincts kicked in to save him.

And so, Jonah proceeded to throw himself off of his roof. When he reached the ground two stories below, he felt as if he had hit a very soft, springy mattress. Upon further inspection, Jonah realized that he was resting on a cushion of air, ten centimeters above the asphalt driveway. His parents were watching him with identical looks of horror through a front window. His mother had spilt tea all down her blouse. His father had one foot in the air, and seemed to be frozen in this position.

After this stunt and the strange phenomenon it involved, Jonah's parents were rather more willing to believe that their only son might actually be magical, and that they should probably consider sending him to this Hogwarts school.

And this was how Jonah came to be in a rickety little boat, sailing across unfathomably black waters towards the majestic castle in the distance. Sitting in the boat with him were three other boys. Jonah had been too shy to introduce himself to any of them, especially while the blonde one regarded him haughtily. All three seemed to think he was worth less than a rotten apple. The remaining two conversed lightly about what the year might hold, but it was the immensity of the looming castle that drew all of Jonah's attention. For a time he even forgot the howling wind, and the man the size of a small mountain leading the fleet of first years.

Until she appeared. Out of the water came, quite suddenly, a spiraling, smoky form. Wraith-like, it floated out of the murk and turned ever so slowly to face Jonah's boat. He noticed, as he stared at the apparition, that it seemed to be wearing robes much like his own, and they were dripping wet. Yet they billowed as if caught in a soft breeze, not this gusting storm.

Then he saw its face. It was a girl, barely older than him. He could just make out her features in the flickering lamplight. But he could see from the way the light fragmented transparently through her body that this girl was not human, not anymore, at least. A spirit, he thought. As enchanting as she was frightening.

She must have seen the look of rapture mixed with terror on Jonah's face, because the next moment she had swooped down upon him. In a harsh whisper she said, "You look like you've seen a ghost!" before sweeping off, leaving her tingling giggle in the air.

Out of all the strange and fantastic things he saw that day, it was the image of this ghostly girl that would remain in Jonah's mind the longest, and in the most detail. It was not long, however, before he had to concentrate on other things… like being Sorted.

He was near the end of the line of first years going into the Great Hall. A surly man in navy blue robes had made them line up in alphabetical order and file in slowly in front of the High Table. Jonah felt the contents f his stomach (mostly pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes from the train) turn more and more to lead as he waited. Finally, the man in blue called out, "Perry, Jonah!" and the boy walked as steadily as he could up to the stool where the Sorting Hat lay. He took the old hat in his hands (it seemed to leer up at him) and placed it gingerly on his head, where it promptly fell over his eyes. A small voice spoke in his ear. "Well now, what have we here? Sweet little one, you are. A hard-worker, somewhat brave, and loyal to the core. Your fair-mindedness should make up for your lack of brains and ambition. No doubt about it, it'll have to be HUFFLEPUFF for you!"

Jonah heard the hall burst out in applause again, and quickly jerked the hat off his head, leaving it on the stool as he looked for the table clapping the loudest. He joined the other Hufflepuffs, wondering if he really did have a lack of brains and ambition.

The next person to be sorted was a boy named Albus Potter, who got the most deafening applause yet as he joined the Gryffindor table. Jonah attempted to ascertain the reason for this as the rest of the first years were sorted. The ceremony ended with one red-headed Rose Weasley-Granger, who also made it into Gryffindor. Jonah was still bewildered by Albus Potter's fame by the end. It seemed that the wizarding world was simply too hard to understand for a young, muggle-born boy, lacking in brains.

Jonah went to bed in his four-poster that night thinking of two things: whether someone as average as he could possibly belong in a school for witches and wizards, and where the girl in the lake was now.

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Tadaa! Tell me if you like it, and if I should continue, etc. Please please please review!


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